Happy 50th Birthday Severus Snape!
by love4Severus
Summary: Snape's 50th birthday party! Warning: Extreme OOCness and ridiculousness


_**A/N**: This is for the Hideaway Quill Contest! The requirements are listed below. I hope you enjoy! BEWARE: Major OOCness and ridiculousness. _

_**ALTERNATIVE FIC:  
REQUIREMENTS:** _

Write a fic about a HP characters birthday.

**Must include:** Something unexpected.

**LENGTH:** 1,000 words or more.

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"Come now Severus," exclaimed the Headmaster, "I know you have many potions to work on for the Infirmary, but I assure you that you must eat in the Great Hall tonight." 

Snape merely grumbled. He knew the Headmaster had a plan for his 50th birthday.

Every year, his birthdays were the same:

Wake up. Drink some tea. Yell at dunderheads. Stab at essays until they dripped blood-red ink. Get wasted on some finely aged red wine(after all…it was his birthday). Go to bed. And all of this was done alone.

No one.

Zip.

Zilch.

Nada.

Not even that mere rodent that secretly lived under Snape's bed was invited to his party.

That same rodent wept each year. He would one day seek revenge on Snape. Yes. He had it all figured out. He would chew up his black socks so that he could only where white ones! It was purely devious.

That same man that wore the soon to be holey and covered in rodent slobber socks continued to pout like a stubborn 5-year-old child who could not get the cookie. He didn't want to have a 'surprise' birthday. Not at all.

"Ah here we are," said the Headmaster jovially. Snape rolled his eyes and pushed his way through the double doors.

"HAPPY 50th BIRTHDAY SEVERUS," screeched the gaggle of teachers.

"Yea…happy birthday ya old fart," hollered a drunken Hooch from the back corner.

"Rolanda," snapped McGonagall, "Couldn't you have waited until Severus got here to start binging yourself onthe booze?"

The flying instructor merely shook her head before knocking back a flask of a currently unidentifiable amber liquid.

Severus merely watched the exchange with boredom. Rolanda's drinking binges were pure routine as well.

"Well now," said Dumbledore, slapping Severus on the back, "Let's—as the kids say—get this party started!"

Several weak claps and cheers could be heard echoing off of the walls of the Great Hall.

"Headmaster," whined the Potions Master, "I would be perfectly content on spending _my _birthday in _my _rooms. Alone."

The Headmaster's age must have been failing for he heard none of Severus' almost pathetic whining, but instead he pushed him forward onto a chairplaced in the middle of the room.

"And now," said the same crazy old man, "Presents!"

Severus suddenly could not find his lap. It had mysteriously disappeared under a small…well…it wasn't mountainous by any means…it was more of a large hill. Yes, his lap had disappeared under a small hill of gifts. All of which were wrapped in blindingly bright colors.

After Severus blinked for a few minutes, he shoved the packages off of his lap and onto the stone floor.

"Can we please just get this over with Headmaster," he asked putting his head in his hands.

"Oh yes," exclaimed Dumbledore, "I understand that our dear Professor here wants to move on to his cake!"

"Whatever…," the 'dear Professor' grumbled.

"Argus, Rubeus! Could you roll out the cake please?"

Professor Snape's eyes grew huge as a giant 3-tiered green and silver caked was rolled towards him. He secretly loved cake. In fact, he had to sit on his hands to keep from attacking said cake and bite his cheek to keep from squealing like a school girl who had just _brushed_ her crush's elbow by accident.

The staff gathered around him in a big circle and began to sing the song that irked him and irks many today. If you listened closely, you could here what sounded like bone grinding against bone.

When the off-key choir finished singing, Flitwick piped up and said, barely containing his excitement, "Go on Severus! Blow out the candles!"

Severus grumbled and stepped up to the very tempting cake trying to fight the temptation to lick his lips in anticipation. He pretended to make a wish ("Please have Potter die.") and blew out the fifty candles on the cake.

The staff cheered with little enthusiasm. Except, for the men. The men on the staff cheered like crazy. 'Hmm,' Severus thought, turning to the rest of the staff,'Maybe they secretly love cake as much as I do?'

Poor Severus. He thought completely wrong.

Suddenly, the male cheers grew louder and Severus turned to see why.

His eyes bulged and jaw dropped open for inside the cake was…

A cake dancer.

Dressed in nothing but a green, silver, and black corset.

'Oh no,' thought Snape, 'My cake is ruined!' He could feel a headache growing.

The dancer smiled cheekily at him and hopped out of the cake. She then had the _nerve_ to push him into the chair and proceed to grind on his lap.

The headache intensified greatly and it felt as if his eyes were going to burst from their sockets.

'Think clean thoughts,' Severus chanted in his mind, 'Think squeaky clean germ-free thoughts.'

Severus was very, very uncomfortable. This soon turned to anger, which turned to fury.

"GET OFF ME WOMAN," he yelled at the top of his lungs, pushing the poor scantily clad woman to the floor.

He then proceeded to glare at everyone in the room before snarling in a slightly whiney voice, "I just want my cake, but this…woman, if you would even deem to give her that title, completely ruined it by hiding her nearly nude body in it!"

Severus growled a few curses under his breath before continuing to speak as if he was speaking to a small child, "Now…I am just going to take this cake with me back to my quarters. Alone. From there, I will proceed to eat said frosted confection. Alone. If I am in a better mood, I may return, but only to turn the Headmaster into some mutated creature."

He then took the cake and rolled it out of the Great Hall leaving behind him a staff with eyes bulging out of there skulls and a scantily clad dancer who was now shivering due to freezing her barely covered arse on the cold stone floor.

"Well now…" said Minerva, "That certainly went…well."

"Sure did," agreed Poppy, "This time he lasted a whole thirty minutes. A new record I believe! Should I record this?"

"Yes, Poppy," said Minerva gleefully, pulling out a book filled with Severus' time at Hogwarts. He was the baby of the staff afterall, and all babies must have a baby book. Oh how coniving the women of Hogwarts were.

"Well…," coughed Flitwick, "It seems that Rolanda has passed out, Severus has left, and we still have this lovely woman here with us. Shall we proceed with the festivities?"

"Of course we will," proclaimed the Headmaster.

"Well then," said Flitwick, "May I…erm…borrow the woman for a few minutes."

This time it was Flitwick's turn to be gaped at.

"Well," he said happily, "I'll take that as a yes then!"

With that, he grabbed the dancer by the hand and dragged her out of the Great Hall to an unknown destination where he will proceed to have the night of his life in exchange for a large sum of gold coins. This evening will leave him feeling slightly sated, yet empty inside. Flitwick will weep bitterly cursing the gods for inflicting the inability to be with any woman, but, rather expensive, scantily clad prostitutes.

"Well," said Sprout, "That was certainly odd…"

Indeed it was.

If we quickly take a look back at our dear birthday boy, we see him doing his most favorite thing. No. Not thinking of new ways to torture every person he hates.

"Oh lovely cake. How I love you, yes I do," he whispered as if speaking to a fuzzy little puppy (if Snape happened to adore fuzzy little puppies) before diving into the frosting goodness and covering his upper torso with the sugary confection.

And all was right with Severus Snape's world.

Well, it will be until approximately 1 AM in the morning upon which he will wake up with a terrible stomach ache and mutter repeatedly, "I can't believe I ate the whole thing…"

FIIIIIIIIIIIIIN

_**

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****A/N:** You survived? I bow to your greatness You survived? I bow to your greatness_

_The "I can't believe I ate the whole thing" line is credited to the Alka-Sletzer commercial._

_**Words**: 1,214**Edit:** I have no idea how many actually...I recently changed a few things around so the word count may be slightly different._

_Don't forget to drop a review!_


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